A Silver Lining
by iWrites
Summary: When Harry receives a mysterious note from Ginny, she explains him everything about a secret association called: 'The Order of The Phoenix' that is conspiring against him and his basic values. A story that focusses on courage, friendship and love in dark times. Post-GoF. HG.
1. Pilot

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Harry Potter, J. K. Rowling does.

Harry sat in front of the window looking over Privet Drive as the next humid mid-July day rolled into Little Whinging. It wasn't uncommon for Privet Drive to be this dull around this time of the year. Most of the inhabitants had sought refuge in the city center, where the air-conditioning of one of the many malls would keep them cool. Meanwhile, Harry was being boiled and bored alive in his pathetic excuse of a bedroom. Heat waves could be seen, billowing up from underneath the hot tarmac. Yes, this street, and village for that matter, were and would always remain extraordinarily ordinary. Usually, he wouldn't mind that much, but considering the recent events at Hogwarts, he could use the distraction.

If the ordinary setting had had any kind of effect on Harry's mood, it was definitely for the worse. He barely slept, ate only what was necessary to stay alive and spend the rest of the day sitting restlessly in his filthy bedroom. Even the Dursley's had openly worried about his health only a few days ago, though that was because he wasn't bundled in the family's health insurance. Uncle Vernon would have to pay every single penny of the doctor's bill if Harry fell ill, not something he was looking forward to.

Gazing outside once more, he spotted Miss Figg. She was out with two of her cats on a leash. It had been the only remotely interesting thing that had happened all summer. He had first noticed her peculiar habit when he heard Aunt Petunia throwing a tantrum downstairs, which Harry automatically associated with delightful things. Prompted by Petunia's fit, he had been able to catch a glance of Miss Figg walking about with her cats on the leash. It had been the one and only time a ghost of a smile had been on Harry's lips these last few weeks.

Yawning, he removed his glasses so he would be able to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He did not want to fall asleep. Sleep and Harry had never been the best of friends, due to his frequent nightmares. However, since returning from Hogwarts this fear had only increased, leaving Harry no other option than sleeping as few hours as he could manage. His nightmares had also been starting to plague him when he was awake, in the form of Dudley Dursley. In an unfortunate turn of events, he had heard Harry talking about Cedric in his sleep and now he wouldn't shut up about it. Harry would have to confront him with his wand if he ever wanted him to.

He was shaken out of his thoughts when he heard a knocking sound coming from his window stall. As he raised himself up from his bed, two owls emerged on the other side of the window. The old, scrawny one on the left couldn't be anyone but Errol, the Weasley family's owl. Next to him, in pristine condition, sat Hedwig. Harry reached for the window and opened it; it felt like he was opening an oven. The two owls immediately dashed for the leftover water in Hedwig's cage, a struggle easily won by the latter. Errol realized he'd lost the battle and made his way over to Harry's bed, where he extended his paw to reveal a letter tube.

After undoing the poor owl of his burden, he shooed Hedwig away from the last of the water so there would be some left for Errol. He started unscrewing the cap of the letter tube when an annoyed Hedwig bit him in his fingers. "Hey!" Harry shouted: " It's not because you aren't hospitable that you have to maim my fingers!" Sensing that Harry wasn't in the mood for an argument, she looked at the wooden cabinet on which the letter she had been carrying was now lying. Harry nodded curtly to let her know that he had understood her and she scurried of to her cage where she waited for Errol to finish drinking.

The unscrewed cap revealed three letters, two normal sized ones and one that was so small it resembled a post-it. As he looked at these letters a warm glow started flaring up in his stomach. He may have been through a lot, but his friends where still there, and they would always help him. Harry just knew. He got up to retrieve the last letter from where Hedwig had dropped it in her dash for the water. It looked formal and tedious, it looked a bit like the Hogwarts letters he received on a yearly basis, sans the crest that was usually embedded in its seal. After breaking the seal and opening the letter the small, precarious writing gave away the author of the letter, although Harry had no idea why Hermione had sealed it this way.

_Hey Harry,_

_How are you doing Harry? Hopefully you're not too depressed there. I understand that you would want to isolate yourself because of Cedric's death, but that isn't a wise choice. If you are, then please stop blaming yourself for what happened to him. You didn't cause his death Harry! All you wanted to do was share your glory with him, since he had helped you out. That's not a bad decision. It's a very good decision, made by an unselfish, good wizard. We're all dying to see you! And I'll be damned if that isn't weeks before school kicks off again, meaning you'll only be alone for a couple more. There's always light at the end of the tunnel Harry, but if you don't look, you'll never find out. To put it frankly, I wouldn't appreciate you being a sack of bones when we meet again, and I'm sure Molly would wholeheartedly agree with me. Anyway, you'll probably be wondering why I put this letter in such a heavy envelope and sealed it. That's because there's something in the envelope for you. I'm on vacation in France at the moment and the scenery is beautiful. I figured you could use some distraction, so I decided to bundle my letter with a couple of postcards I bought here. Maybe the beautiful scenery will keep your mind of the more serious matters for a bit._

Harry quickly reached for the bin behind his bed in which the opened envelope was already resting. He looked in it and found the postcards Hermione had described. There was one picture of a mountainside completely covered in lavender. Another one showed an ancient mill, complete with wooden blades, which was standing in the center of a vast tree plantation. Harry reckoned they were olive trees since they looked as old as the mill itself and seemed to have olive-sized knots at the end of their twigs. The last picture of the lot was of Hermione herself. She was standing on a white, sandy beach and, while the wind swept to her hair, she frantically waved at him. This last, moving image was successful in putting a smile on Harry's face. He noticed that, even though he had not seen her for only a couple of weeks, she seemed to have matured a lot. Her face looked less childish and more focused and encouraging than before. He slipped all three postcards back into the envelope and put them in his desk drawer, where he kept most of his valuable possessions Uncle Vernon hadn't taken from him. After doing so, he continued reading the letter.

_Since I'm so far away from home and from you, it might be difficult to correspond these next couple of weeks. So, please don't take it personally if you don't receive a letter of mine in that time frame. I've talked to Ron and he said he'd be available if you'd want to set up a somewhat more frequent correspondence. I know he's not much of a talker, but I managed to convince him, so make use of it! All in all, I'm all right, although I miss you, Ron and my other friends a lot. I'll be back in England by your birthday, so you don't have to worry about my gift not arriving on time! Anyway, We're going to be leaving for the village center now, so I'm going to have to stop writing. Can't wait to see you again!_

_Stay Frosty,_

_Hermione._

_Ps: I hope you don't mind me borrowing Hedwig for this job, I don't think Errol would survive._

Leave it to Hermione to psychoanalyze someone like she had just done to him. She had been able to do so without even knowing what he was up to. He was happy for her, though. She had been in need of a good break from school. The last couple of years she had always picked up her books for next year straight after coming back from Hogwarts. This meant that she never put her books down until she knew the full content of each and every one of them. This time around, she wasn't able to continue her endless schoolwork during the summer, since she was in France. Bringing some more peace and rest to her summer.

Hermione's letter had successfully woken him up, so he decided to bring the tube Errol had carried with him to his desk. He flipped the tube around and softly tapped on top of it so every item it had in it would come out. To his surprise, a powder-like substance fell out and sprawled all over his desk, filling all the nooks and crannies. The three letters he had seen earlier had fallen out together with the sand. Convinced that the explanation would be in one of them, Harry folded open one of the two bigger letters and recognized Ron's sloppy zigg-zagg writing, this on its own managed to make him smile. He would have expected Ron to be friendly but short, however the letter was nearly as long as Hermione's. He silently thanked her for forcing Ron into writing a letter as long as this one, anything to keep his mind of Cedric.

_Hullo Harry,_

_Hope you're all right there at the Dursley's. They better not be putting you down to much. Anyway. Hermione figured that reading letters and corresponding would allow you to put the entire Cedric drama out of your head. I decided to write because I'd like to help you out pal. Even if there's only a remote chance this will contribute to making your summer less dull, I'm extremely happy to help. That reminds me of something else I wanted to tell you. You can come and spend the last 3 weeks of the summer with us at the Burrow. Maybe that'll cheer you up a bit. My mom and dad are dying to see you again, and I am too! Hermione also told me that you could use some distraction, so I've been digging through the house looking for stuff that might cheer you up. I think I managed to find a good bunch of things you'd like. I'll be sending them to you once Errol returns, since I don't think he'll manage the letters and the toys both. As I said before, if you're looking for someone to write to or you just want to share something with someone, feel free to write me. I know I'm not a pro at comforting people or wording my feelings like Hermione, but I just wanted to let you know that you shouldn't be so hard on yourself, mate. I know you'll be blaming yourself for most of the things that go wrong in the world, but you really shouldn't. You're not responsible for someone else's actions Harry, never forget that. I'll be in touch soon!_

_-Ron_

As Harry pondered Ron's letter, he realized he wanted to share his feelings really badly. The only problem was that he wasn't comfortable telling Ron, since it would be such an awkward conversation. He wouldn't feel that awkward if he talked to Hermione about it, but she was 3000 miles away at the moment, and even then telling her didn't feel all right. Harry felt like he was missing something, like there was a piece of the puzzle missing. He didn't want Ron to feel uneasy around him and neither did he want Hermione to overreact to almost anything he did and drive him crazy. He was faced with a true dilemma. This summer's events had driven a wall between him and his friends. He felt bad, since they hadn't done anything wrong to deserve this, but it would still take a lot of effort to tear down that wall.

In a bizarre turn of events, the only person he felt comfortable sharing his feelings with was Sirius, his Godfather. He had only been in Harry's life for a bit longer than a year, but against all odds, he had managed to win Harry's trust in that brief period. Life can be weird like that.

Harry quit surmising his friendships and picked up the second letter that had come with Errol. He spotted the Weasley surname at the bottom of the letter and quickly realized that this was Molly and Arthur's doing. They were looking out for him as well. The letter itself didn't contain any significant information. It only confirmed what Ron mentioned earlier, the Weasleys had invited him to spend the last 3 weeks of the summer holiday with them, at the Burrow. Appreciative as he was, he scribbled down a brief, but genuine, thank you and tied the note to Errol's paw.

Errol was disappointed that he couldn't stay any longer, but when he realized that he could fly home and didn't have to make any more detours, he seemed happy enough. Harry reopened his window and watched the owl becoming smaller and smaller until he disappeared from vision completely. He wished he could have gone with Errol right now. He wished he could spend the entire summer at the Burrow. It would be the normal thing to do. He had asked Dumbledore that same question before he left Hogwarts last year. He had received a vague answer and had realized he probably wasn't being told the truth, but he had accepted Dumbledore's judgment. "They might not look it, but they protect you in a way that exceeds the physical, Harry." He could still hear Dumbledore's answer resonating in his head. What had he meant by it? In the past he would have gotten frustrated at the old headmaster, yet he now realized that if Dumbledore wasn't telling him everything, there was always a reason. Most likely to protect him, and who was he to go against Dumbledore's wishes.

He looked down at his desk and saw the last note that had been carried by Errol. His constant thinking made him forget about it. He reached for the wafer-thin paper as curiosity started bubbling in his stomach. Who could it possibly belong to? Sirius? Fred and George? Who else would be writing him, and why was the note so small? These thoughts floated in his head as he unfolded the wafer-thin note. It only contained three sentences and they were written in such a small handwriting that he had to squint his eyes to read them. The name on the bottom of the note was decipherable though and surprisingly, that name was Ginny. Why would Ron's younger sister be writing him?

_Harry,_

_I really have to talk to you about something important, please get to the fireplace as soon as you can. I'm sorry if the floopowder I stuffed in the tube confused you. I just thought you may not have some spare powder lying around there at your Muggle relatives' house._

_Love,_

_Ginny._

The note hadn't exactly been enlightening, if anything it confused Harry even more than he had been prior to reading it. At least it had explained the sand that came with the tube, but that was the only thing the note managed to explain. Why would Ginny write him? Why did she have to talk to him? She hadn't said 5 words to him last year, nor had she expressed the need or want to. He decided to go downstairs and check out the situation nonetheless. Since it was still early in the morning, the Dursleys were all asleep. Harry had a steady but silent tread due to his frequent walks around Hogwarts underneath an invisibility cloak. He figured going downstairs wouldn't raise any issues.

He got up and walked to his desk to salvage as much of the floopowder as he possibly could. It wasn't a simple task, seeing as most of the dust had fallen into the small crevices in his wooden desk. After recovering a handful of the stuff, he was content and slipped on his socks which were still lying on the floor. The socks would make his tread near impossible to detect. He carefully pushed down the door handle and used his shoulder to put pressure on the door. Deciding against closing the door, since he had to get back in either way, he made his way over to the stairs and headed down. Experience had taught him that the 3rd step, counting upwards, was the creakiest one. So, naturally he jumped that one and noiselessly found his way to the door that entered into the Dursley's living room.

Looking through the window in the door, he already spotted something out of the ordinary. Since it was still early, it was still dark in the living room. However, if he looked at the sofa, there seemed to be a glow behind it. It looked a bit like the fireplace was on, just not at full power. As he cautiously entered the room, he headed for the glow to check it out. He had been right, the fire was burning, but the flames seemed a bit surreal, magical even. He stood there for a minute before he realized that he probably had to throw the floopowder into the fireplace for it to work.

He threw the handful of powder he was still carrying into the smoldering embers of the fireplace and a giant, green burst of flames shot out of the wood. He took a step back, anticipating its heat, but it didn't come. The flames weren't hot. Meanwhile, the flames had started to take shape and revealed a feature of the floo network he had no knowledge of.

Ginny had started to appear. A green Ginny made of flames. She reminded him a bit of one of those Roman busts he had seen in a museum once, although all of her limbs were still attached. She smiled as she noticed she wasn't alone in this room and shouted: "Harry!"

He quickly put his finger to his lips, signifying that she had to be silent. She clearly understood because she stopped talking until Harry had shuffled towards her and sat down in one of the fauteuils facing her.

"Harry." She repeated, though notably in a much quieter fashion. Harry was still a bit puzzled at her sudden appearance, so he only managed to say: "Ginny…" She looked at him again and a small smile formed on her lips. "You must be so confused…" She deduced correctly. "You can say that," he responded quickly. "I'm sorry I have to bother you this early, but everyone's still asleep, so I could only do it now."

"Do what?" Harry asked, still confused at her intentions. "And you shouldn't feel sorry, I couldn't sleep anyway." His last statement caused Ginny to narrow her eyes. "You have to sleep Harry, you can't function without it," she stated boldly. He hadn't seen this sudden change of topic coming, nor was he in the mood for it. He wanted answers. "I will, but why are you here? Why did you do all this just to talk to me?"

"Listen." Ginny shushed him. "I'm not sure I'm supposed to tell you this, but I've heard people talking about you." Harry didn't think too much of this statement. He knew it was inevitable that people talked behind his back. Not only was he one of the most famous wizards alive, his opinion on Voldemort's return didn't coincide with the opinions of most. The situation was dire, though. If people wouldn't start believing him sooner or later, it may come back to haunt them.

"I'm used to that Ginny. I've always had people talking about my behind my back. I've learned to accept it." He responded. "This is different!" She said quickly. "What do you mean this is different?" He semi-shouted, he was growing impatient. Why had she gone through all this effort just to tell him people where talking behind his back. It just didn't make sense. "Harry..." She looked apologetically as she repeated her name. He wished she'd just say what she wanted to say already. "It's not just random people on the street. It's mom, dad, Ron, even Fred and George." This turn of events, Harry had not seen coming. Still, there were explanations. "You know, it's possible they're just conversing about me. I'm coming over to the Burrow at the end of the summer. Maybe they were making arrangements?"

Ginny sighed and looked down as he said this. "I know Harry, but this isn't just making arrangements. They've been whispering about you all summer and as soon as I show up they all shut up and act like nothing's going on." This concerned Harry. Why would they act like this around her? He was trying to come up with possible explanations when Ginny started talking once again. "I've picked up some bits and pieces of their whispers and they're not exactly talking about innocent things." She looked down after she'd told him. "I thought they were talking about me." He asked her, his confusion was starting to come back. "That's only the tip of the iceberg." She stated boldly, her gaze finding his own as she spoke the wicked words.

"Dumbledore has reassembled the Order of the Phoenix." Ginny realized that Harry had no idea what the Order was or what they did. She saw the confusion on his face and summarized: "The Order's a secret association. Dumbledore founded it during the First Wizarding War. Their main objective is fighting Voldemort and his associates. The Deatheaters."

Harry smiled: "How is that a bad thing?" If Dumbledore was raising an army to fight Voldemort, he wanted in, badly. "Their intentions aren't bad." She stopped for a second, as if she was considering how she was going to word the next part. "Do you know Hermione's current whereabouts?" She asked him, looking determined and defiant. Harry frowned: "Somewhere in France, right? One of her letters arrived together with your note." He explained. "Well, she isn't. She's here. I saw her yesterday; she's at the Order's headquarters. I think we'll be going there too, soon."

"Are you sure?" He asked here, hoping she'd say she wasn't. "I'm sure." She muttered more to herself than to him. This information angered Harry. She had been so supportive of him, sending him the postcards and doing a lot of effort to write him. Now, it turned out she was lying. "Why?" He worded his last thought. "I think the Order is pressuring her into lying to you." She said, a bit flustered at Harry's posture. His shoulders had dropped and he was looking at the floor. "It's not like she wanted to lie to you herself!" She added quickly. "She's my friend. She knows being in the dark isn't something I like. She should have told me what was going on, no matter what the cost." After Harry's words, silence fell. Ginny clearly wanted to comment on what Harry had just said, yet she didn't.

As his friends' betrayal got into Harry's system, the young witch he was faced with piped up once again. "They're trying to make sure you'll be all right when school kicks off again, but in the process, they're forgetting about your person. Your personality. I know that all you want to do right now is fight alongside them, but I don't think they realize that." She said in a hopeless manner. "I think they would've told me the same thing if we were closer. I don't think they expected me to tell you all of this, since I barely talk to you."

This made Harry think. Why did she reveal this to him, her of all people? Ginny wasn't a stranger to him, she often dined with them at the Gryffindor table; she was always present when he was at the Burrow. She was around him a lot, yet talking just wasn't part of their routine. "Why did you decide to inform me about this?" He asked politely, although he was eager to know. 'I…I…I couldn't not tell you," she stammered: "All your life, you've been protecting everyone you love. Now, the Order thinks that keeping you in the dark will keep you safe. They want to make sure you don't do anything stupid and uncalled for. But I don't think that works on you. I don't think you're a person who doesn't mind being left in the dark. You don't deserve it, that's why I reached out."

He wholeheartedly agreed with her. He hated not being told things, even if it was to protect him. He didn't want other people protecting him, definitely not if who they were protecting him from was Voldemort. He'd rather face Voldemort personally than having people stand in front of him to take the blows.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by Ginny. "Harry!" She had whispered. He looked up at her once again. "I have to go now, people are starting to wake up here. They might discover me soon, I don't think it would be wise to keep talking." Harry only nodded as a response. "We could meet again tomorrow morning," She suggested: "I can be here again, same time. We can talk some more. At least you're already informed of what's going on now." It took Harry a moment, though eventually he managed to mutter back: "Okay." She smiled and begged him farewell. Harry did the same thing.

She was now looking backwards, straight into the fireplace itself, as if she was looking at something on the sooth-covered wall. "Ohh… and Ginny!" Harry added quickly, which caused her to turn around and look at him once again. "Thanks." Harry said appreciatively. She smiled at him and he was smiling back at her, not entirely sure why, but he was extremely happy she had told him about the Order.

The green fire was now starting to become more violent and less controlled. The flames had assumed a funnel-shape and were slowly disappearing into the embers of the fireplace. The image reminded Harry a bit of a bath being drained. He found himself smiling at the fireplace until only the smoldering embers that had been there all along were left. Ginny was gone.

Gone with her was the faint glow the fireplace usually emanated, making it a lot harder for Harry to find his way back upstairs into the smallest, foulest room in the house.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** This is only a pilot episode. I'm testing the waters and so far, they seem favorable. Future chapters will be bigger in both content and size. Please forgive my spelling mistakes; English is not my mother tongue. I know it's been a while since any edits were made to this story, but I am now happy to say that I'll be recommencing it and am already in the process of writing new chapters. I'll be announcing an ETA on the next chapter soon. If you've read the pilot chapter and are willing to leave support or constructive criticism, feel free to do so. I'm always open to suggestions. Thank you.

**ETA CHAPTER 2 - AIRBORNE: **Fri 18th of December 2015.

-iWrites.


	2. Airborne

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Harry Potter, J. K. Rowling does.

Seeing as it was nearing 7 o'clock, Harry tried his best not to succumb to sleep. The Dursley's would inevitably wake him up in about half an hour. An entire summer he had been sitting motionlessly in his room, feeling guilty for what had happened to Cedric and how he had been unable to help him. Now, however, the tables had turned and there was no more time for melancholy.

It was the present worrying him now. The Order of the Phoenix. Harry praised their ideals, no matter how much he hated the members for leaving him out of the equation. He wanted to fight. He wanted to help the people defend themselves against Voldemort. A feeling had slowly started bubbling in his stomach when he first defeated his parent's murderer to reclaim the Sorcerer's stone. In time, it had become a mighty flame. It was a feeling of faith, of destiny. Whatever reason they had for not informing and possibly even recruiting him was bogus. Joining the Order wouldn't threaten Harry's life more then it already was. On the contrary, if what he felt was true, if he really was destined to fight Voldemort, then he could use all the training he could get.

He found himself in an odd situation. Harry had always trusted Dumbledore's judgment, the old headmaster's wisdom far surpassed his own. His relationship with Dumbledore was adorned with both respect and admiration, yet he thought that the old he had made a mistake by not telling Harry the full extent of his plans. However, doubt was starting to cloud Harry's mind. Maybe he was wrong himself. Maybe Dumbledore was right not to tell him, problems did seem to arise rather frequently when he was involved in something dangerous. A lot of his actions had lead to problems in the past.

Realizing that he would never be able to conclude his thoughts without hearing Dumbledore's explanation, he decided not to dwell on the matter. The headmaster was a smart man; Harry would forgive him if he gave him a good reason to do so. Ron and Hermione, however, weren't as lucky. They had known him for years and there were no excuses for what they had done to him. How could they not realize that exorcising him wasn't the right solution to this problem? Why did his best friends betray him when even Ginny, whom Harry barely even spoke to, realized that this wasn't the right plan of action?

Harry found it tough to link everything that had happened together. He knew that Ginny wasn't lying; yet he still found it odd that Ron and Hermione weren't first to inform him. Eventually, he decided not to get mad at them just yet. They might just be playing things a bit safer than Ginny was. Maybe they didn't want to risk contacting him through letters. He realized Ginny might also be punished should he confront the Order now and that was something he wanted to prevent at all costs.

Unforeseen racket eventually shook him out of his thinking. He was faced with the reality that he still had, at least, 3 week left with the Dursley's. His nightly adventures had made him forget about the Dursley's existence altogether, but he was sure they'd remind him of their presence soon. They were masters in irritation.

A high-pitched call at his door combined with relentless knocking soon proved his theory to be right. "Yes, Aunt Petunia, I'm awake!" He had to scream over the racket echoing through the house. She stopped knocking on the door, so Harry assumed she had heard him. He stretched out and scratched the back of his head when he remembered there was still something he had to take care of. Scanning the room for something that would function as an impromptu container, he settled on one of Dudley's old shoes and figured it would do the trick.

Scooping up enough floopowder for tonight turned out to be easier than he had expected. The rush he had experienced last night was probably responsible for that, since there was still a lot of the stuff lying about on his desk. He then hid the shoe under the loose plank in his room, not that the Dursley's ever checked it, still, better safe than sorry.

Uncle Vernon was sitting in his favorite fauteuil when he entered the living room. He lowered the newspaper he was reading when he heard the door shut and narrowed his eyes when he saw who had entered. Those sorts of actions used to make him feel worthless, but in time, he had grown accustomed to Vernon's villainous glances. Sometimes Harry wondered what made his Uncle so resentful of him. Sure, he was anything but normal and that was not something Vernon enjoyed, yet he felt there was more to the story than that.

Vernon put the newspaper on his lap. "Petunia, the boy's here." He snarled before picking up his newspaper back up and reading on. Yet, Harry didn't shift his gaze away from his uncle, who was now completely concealed by the muggle newspaper. Harry suspected he had started wearing a toupet while he had been at Hogwarts last year. He used to have a receding hairline and it had magically disappeared, which was something he didn't believe could happen naturally.

Aunt Petunia soon brought him out of his reverie. "What are you looking at, Potter." She pointed at the kitchen. "Get started on the breakfast already." She was wearing a knee-height denim dress and a flower-pattern kitchen apron. With a lot of difficulty, he managed to look away from her without bursting out in laughter and headed over to the kitchen. Harry liked cooking, not that he'd ever admit it to the Dursley's, or they wouldn't let him anymore. It was a way for him to cope with things. "Oh… and Dudley will have to stick to his diet of half a grapefruit, so it'll be just the two of us." She added as an afterthought.

Harry laughed up his sleeve. He had completely forgotten about Dudley's 'unfortunate' predicament. There would be some fun to this hellish day after all then. He tossed half a dozen more bacon strips in the frying pan than he normally would have. Not that he was necessarily hungry, although seeing Dudley crave for something he possessed did increase his appetite. No, Harry wanted to tantalize Dudley, and what better way to do that than with food?

As far as the eggs were concerned, his only goal was to cook them as quickly as he possibly could. He cracked five of them and put them in the plastic container he always used for shaking. After about two minutes of shaking, the egg yolks and whites had become one uniform yellow mass. He poured the mixture into the frying pan and stirred until it was ready to be eaten.

When he opened the fridge to grab the orange juice he noticed the last half of grapefruit. It was lying in the fridge, completely unprotected. Harry realized he couldn't waste this kind of opportunity. This was his chance to get back at Dudley for once, and he wasn't going to let it slip between his fingers. He peeled the fruit and started slicing it in thin, long pieces. After he had finished the strenuous task, he lay each of the pieces on Dudley's plate and ruffled them up a bit more. The blood-red strips of grapefruit now bore an extremely close resemblance to the sizzling bacon in the frying pan.

"Breakfast's ready." Harry smirked. He couldn't recount the last time he had had this much fun. Everyone was already seated at the table when Dudley first entered the living room. He greeted his parents and took place on his chair, completely ignoring Harry all the while. What he had not expected was to find a bacon-like dish waiting for him. His expression soon changed, though, when he realized it wasn't the sort of bacon he was hoping for. A death glare and knuckle-crack followed suit.

Uncle Vernon didn't seem to notice what was going on between Harry and Dudley, he was too engrossed in his food. Petunia had noticed and to his surprise, she seemed to be smiling. Harry had to bite his lips even harder; she probably thought this was a gesture to show Dudley he supported him in his diet. The hellish day was getting better and better.

It was unusually quiet at the breakfast table. Normally Dudley led the conversation, since he liked to complain about food, school and various other things. Uncle Vernon often joined him in his complaints. The conversation would then end with one of Vernon's endless rants about corrupt politicians or the illicit activities of banks. Aunt Petunia only chimed in every once in a while, especially when they were commenting on someone's behavior or looks. Harry would remain silent during these conversations. The Dursley's weren't waiting for his opinion either way. Today, on the contrary, the mood was peacefully quiet. Actually, a little bit too quiet for his liking.

Dudley ate his grapefruit without taking his eyes of him, meaning that he was planning something. Harry wasn't afraid of his cousin. Even if Harry had to carry a 10-pound-bag of potatoes, he was still faster. No, it wasn't physical torture he was anxious of; it was psychological torture that frightened him, the kind he was rather unfamiliar with.

"So." Dudley broke the silence, though he wasn't looking at either his mom or dad, his eyes remained fixated on him. "How's Cedric, Harry?" The question hit him like a punch in the gut. He knew Dudley was aware of Cedric's existence, as he had mentioned his name a few times, but Harry didn't think he'd ever bring it up in front of his mom and dad. They hated everything magic-related anyway. "Well?" Dudley went on.

In loss of words, Harry hastily stuffed his mouth chock-full of food. That way he had a good reason for deflecting the question. Uncle Vernon also seemed more interested in the events happening around the table than he had been a couple minutes ago. Meanwhile, Aunt Petunia looked at him like a hawk, her mouth set in a thin line. She already thought of him as an arrogant, impolite crook and now she was judging him even more because he was straight out ignoring her son. "Well?" She mumbled. "Who's Cedric?" He wasn't going to get out of this situation.

Harry opened his mouth to speak. "He's just a boy who goes to my school." Dudley smirked. "Must be more than a friend. I can hear you talking about him in your dreams nearly every night." Dudley grabbed his unused fork and twisted it around in his meaty excuse of a hand. After playing with the fork he put it back down and smiled innocently in Harry's direction. "You could say he's a friend of mine." Harry conceded. It felt like he was defiling Cedric's legacy when he talked about him like this, with the people he hated most.

"Oh." Dudley feigned another innocent smile. "Good for you." Slowly, he reached for his glass of orange juice, put it up to his mouth and sipped a few times, all the while not taking his eyes of Harry's. His cousin was starting to frighten him, what was he going to say next? Did he now any more sensitive information Harry wanted shared at no cost? What he said in his sleep was the one thing he had absolutely no control over, and he would be gutted if Dudley knew any information he didn't like to share.

Dudley put the glass back down and a small smirk appeared on his face once again. "Can I ask you another question?" Harry was taken aback, was he going to reveal even more things? "Sure." He mumbled silently. Dudley took a long time contemplating how he was going to phrase the question. "Could it be possible… that said Cedric… is…now how should I put this…dead?" The last word resonated through his mind for what seemed like an eternity. How was Dudley aware of what was happening in his life? How did he know of the horrible things that had happened to him only weeks ago? It must have been his sleep talking.

He was boiling inside. Talking about Cedric had ticked him off and slightly annoyed him. But Dudley talking about Cedric's death was the last straw. He felt his hand twitch; he was longing to curse the living hell out of his cousin, whatever the consequences. "What?" He managed to stutter out as a last resort. Maybe Dudley only heard bits and pieces of his dreams. Maybe if he denied it, Dudley might think he misheard it.

"In fact." Dudley knitted his fingers together to strengthen the effects of his next words. "I think you've got something to do with his death." Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia went dead silent after Dudley spoke those words. "Now, Potter. If you really did, you better confess, you know. That means you'll get a few less years behind bars." That was it. He promptly rose from his chair, knocking over his own glass of juice in the process, and yelled his lungs out. "Shut up! Shut up! You know nothing!" He wanted to hit something, anything.

"…Kill Cedric. I'm sorry Cedric…Noo…" Dudley had difficulty not bursting out in laughter while he imitated Harry's nightly screams. Harry had to flee; he needed to put as much distance as possible between these people and him. He wanted to be as far away as he possible could from this hellhole.

He couldn't physically or magically hurt Dudley for what he had done, so he decided to let his anger out on absolutely everything he came across on his way upstairs. Picture frames, chairs, doors, the stairs, they all received either a kick or a punch. When he slammed the door of his bedroom shut behind him, he realized he had yet to compose a plan of actions. What was he going to do next? Not thinking straight, he grabbed his wand, a jacket and his shoes. The window had to go too, he could have easily opened it instead of putting his foot through it, but he could no longer withhold his anger and frustration.

Adrenalin was currently keeping him from collapsing, the lack of food had weakened his already flimsy body, and the sleep-deprivation didn't help either. His body was making decision seconds before he realized what he was doing. Before he knew it, Harry had jumped out of his bedroom window, landed in the bushes underneath his window and ran away from Privet Drive.

It only took five minutes for his mind to catch up too his body, when the adrenalin rush faded. All of his muscles started to feel sore and stiff. His breathing was erratic, it felt like he would start hyperventilating any second now. His vision was getting blurrier by the minute and his head hurt like someone had spliced it open with an axe. He was now nearing the end of Magnolia Road, where there was a fence that would give him access to the park. That's where he was heading.

When he reached the fence, Harry doubled over and retched. Out came the breakfast he had joyously made not an hour ago. It seemed like an eternity had passed between that moment and the present.

A hand lightly touched his shoulder. His mind and body were too exhausted to recoil from the unknown touch. "Harry, are you all right?" A gentle voice enquired. Too exhausted to answer, Harry sat down on the ground and put his arms around his knees. While he was gazing in the distance, the voice continued talking. "Harry, what happened?" It asked. Harry didn't have the energy to acknowledge the owner of the voice and just kept staring at nothing in particular.

A second hand now grabbed his other shoulder and slowly started rocking him back and forth. "Harry?" The voice kept asking while its hands shook him calmly. He looked up. To his surprise, the owner of the voice wasn't familiar to Harry. She had a pale heart-shaped face, dark twinkling eyes and short spiky hair that was a violent shade of violet. He had no energy to voice his inner confusion, so all he managed was a frown. Clearly she had understood him, because she smiled lightly.

"I don't think this is the time and place for an explanation, Harry. Let's get you somewhere safe first." She extended her hand to him. "Can I at least know your name?" Harry asked as he accepted her helping hand and put all the energy he had left into pulling himself up. "Sure." She only answered when he was back on his feet. "It's Tonks. Now are we going?" Harry brushed his filthy hands on his jeans before her words managed to sink through. "Where are we going?" He was hesitant. The last thing he wanted to do was return to the Dursley's after this morning's fiasco.

"Your home." The way she said those words hurt Harry more than he thought they would. It wasn't his home. He didn't have a home; Hogwarts was the only place in the world where he felt at home, yet it wasn't. Driven by his fears, Harry rapidly walked backwards until he found himself backing into a tree. "I can't go back there." His entire body was starting to tremble. "Not back to the Dursley's." Tears found their way to his cheeks. Why did nobody understand him when it came to his horrible relatives? To him, they were the antichrist.

"It's the only place that's safe." Tonks pressed him. She looked uneasy and out of place. It was clear that handling a catatonic kid wasn't something that came natural to her. She seemed more like a physical person, not emotional. All Harry did was shake his head. "Harry, I must insist. I swear I will do anything to get you away from there as soon as possible." It looked like she was speaking the truth; still Harry wasn't going to budge. All he continued doing was shake his head.

A hand suddenly grabbed his arm and started dragging him out of the park. "Tonks, what are you doing?" He tried to yank his arm back, but her grip was firm. "Harry you're a tough kid." Her other hand now grabbed his shoulder as she looked him in the eyes. "You'll live through a few more hours with the Dursley's. I'll be back tonight to fetch you. I promise!" She looked at him sternly as she spoke those last words. She didn't continue pulling him, instead, she stopped and let him decide. It was that little thing that changed his mind. Forceful as she was, the choice still remained in his hands.

"All right, I'll go." Harry muttered. It wasn't because he had finally given in to Tonks' request that he no longer dreaded returning to the Dursley's. His heart remained a melting pot of emotion. Fear, disappointment, hatred, anxiety. "But you have to tell me who you are and what you're doing here while we walk back." Harry stated in a way that made it clear there was no place for discussion. He was still very curious as to why she was here, spying on him.

"I presume that's the least I can do." She smiled at him, yet it wasn't a smile of happiness or joy. No, it looked more like she was trying to express her admiration. "What do you want to know?" She started walking back towards his 'home'. It took him a moment to regain his composure after deciding he'd go back to that hellhole, but he quickly caught up with her.

"Why are you here?" It truly was the first question that entered his mind. Tonks bit her lip. "You know. I can't actually tell you that right now. I'm sorry." For a moment it looked like she was going to add something to her explanation, unfortunately, she didn't. "Okay." Harry raised his eyebrows. "So now that we've established that Dumbledore sent you to watch me, anything else you want to add?" Tonks' eyes grew wide in horror. "It was just a good guess, don't worry, it wasn't your fault." Harry was proud for his deductive skills. He'd have told her about the Order of the Phoenix as well, if it wouldn't have compromised Ginny.

They turned left onto Magnolia Crescent. "Don't ask me how I know because we don't have enough time for that." Harry added as an afterthought. "All right." She sounded impressed. "Has Dumbledore always had people watching me?" It was a dubious question. If she said yes, it would make Harry feel both happy and sad. Happy because, at last, he was certain that there had always been someone looking after him. However, no one ever seemed to care about how the Dursley's treated him. He had always blamed this on the fact that no one was aware of his abuse. Yet, if the old headmaster had always been keeping an eye on him, this theory would prove to be false. Dumbledore would have watched him suffer for years on end and never intervened.

If he said no, on the other hand, then his suspicion would become a reality. It would mean that no one ever cared for him or his situation. And that wouldn't be a particularly joyful insight either. He was going to be hurt by the answer either way, so he braced himself for the worst. The answer, however, wasn't as enlightening as he had been hoping for.

"Yes and no." Tonks said while she strode through Magnolia Crescent. Harry only frowned. "Yes, there have always been people watching you. No, because the way we watched you has completely changed." She slowed down. "After You-Know-Who's return, Dumbledore insisted on permanently guarding your home. That's why I'm here today, I followed you when you barged out of the house." Harry wasn't mad at Dumbledore for constantly keeping an eye out on him. No, he was mad because the old headmaster thought he was safer with the Dursley's than anywhere else.

"If he wants me to be safe." Harry started. "Why doesn't he let me stay at Hogwarts or Ron's, where I'm surrounded by wizards twenty-four seven?" Tonks turned around with a vacant expression on her face. "I have no idea Harry, but I'm sure Dumbledore has a good reason to do so. He has your best interests at heart, you know. He really cares about your wellbeing." So the old headmaster didn't even tell members of the Order's his plans, he thought. They walked on in silence as they rounded the corner of Magnolia Crescent and Privet Drive.

She looked up. Big, grey storm clouds were gathering in the sky. "About time. I think the Kalahari Dessert has seen more rain than Britain this summer." Harry couldn't help the small smile that appeared on his lips. They were drenched by the time they arrived back at 4 Privet Drive. "All right, Harry." She took both of his hands in hers once again. "I'll leave you here, but I will be back, like I promised." Harry nodded. "Now just go in there and lock your door or something. Try to ignore your relatives for the time being."

Harry opened the gate and walked up to the door on his own. When he looked back at Tonks, she waved and promptly dispparated. He turned around and put his hand on the handle. He was planning to barge into the house much in the same way the had left it. Upon reaching his room he would close and lock the door immediately. Harry sighed.

His initial plan went wrong as soon as he saw who was standing right behind the door. It was Uncle Vernon and he looked absolutely furious. "How dare you come back here?" His head was so red, Harry thought it was about to explode. "How dare you show your face again in my house, after what you've done." He grabbed Harry by the collar and started dragging him towards the living room.

Vernon's anger confused Harry. He realized his Uncle must have been mad at him for breaking his bedroom window and a few other things. Yet, Harry had done way worse and his uncle had never gotten this angry. It didn't take long for his confusion to clear up. When his uncle dragged him into the living room, he saw Dudley sitting in Vernon's favorite fauteuil. Dudley looked pale and absent. He was muttering random words every so often and his arms were clenching a bucket with all their might. Dudley looked sick, really sick.

Uncle Vernon released his grip on Harry's collar and pushed him towards Dudley. Aunt Petunia also noticed him and shot a vicious glare at him. He turned around and looked at his uncle. "What's wrong with him?" He asked, pointing at Dudley. "You tell me boy!" Vernon yelled at him, his moustache dancing on his lip. "What should I explain? I didn't do anything to him. I haven't even seen him since breakfast." He knew that if his aunt and uncle thought this was his doing, there was no way he'd be able to talk his way out of this situation.

"Liar!" Petunia spat while shat patted Dudley's soaked hair. "Our poor boy went after his cousin to try and calm him, help him! And what did you do? You brat! You defiled him with dark magic!" She burst out in tears. "We should have let you rot when we found you on our doorstep sixteen years ago. We should have just let you rot!" She put her face in her hands and sobbed. Harry was paralyzed. What was happening here? Why did they blame him for this? He was speaking the truth; he hadn't seen Dudley since breakfast. Uncle Vernon moved passed him and hugged his wife.

"Get out!" He screamed at Harry. "We don't want you anywhere near us ever again. And I think that feeling's mutual so why are you still here in the first place?" It was a rhetorical question, so it required no answer, only an action. Slowly but surely, Harry backed out of this cursed living room and headed upstairs to get his stuff. He realized that he had promised Tonks to stay here, but she couldn't have known this was about to happen. It was best he left right now; maybe he could get a room in the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry walked up the stairs to his room and went inside. His worries and thoughts almost made him overlook the large parchment envelope lying on his pillow. He ripped open the envelope and pulled out the letter inside. A booming voice, coming out of the shattered envelope, startled him and made him drop it. The envelope transformed into an envelope-mouth hybrid and Harry soon realized what sort of letter he had received. It was a howler.

"Dear Mister Potter." The envelope greeted him. "We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at twenty-three minutes past nine this morning in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of a Muggle. The severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand. As you have already received an official warning for a previous offence under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy, we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 a.m. on the twelfth of August. Hoping you are well, Yours Sincerely, Mafalda Hopkirk. Improper Use of Magic Office, Ministry of Magic." One fact penetrated his consciousness like a paralyzing dart. He was expelled from Hogwarts. It was all over. He was never going back.

There was only one solution. He had to run. Run somewhere were these so called ministry representatives wouldn't be able to find him. Somewhere far away. He quickly collected all of his valuables, books and clothes and stuffed them inside his trunk. He wasn't going to let anyone destroy his wand for something he didn't do. Fury and rage burned in his veins. Why did this always happen to him? Why had he been blamed for casting a Patronus when he hadn't done so in three years?

"Wingardium Leviosa." He pointed his wand at his trunk. Now that he had been expelled for no reason whatsoever, he might as well start using magic when it benefitted him. He ran out of his room and down the stairs. The doors of his old living quarters, the cupboard under the stairs, burst open as he strode into the Dursley's hall. Vernon stood in the doorway leading to the living room and watched him intently. With the Firebolt secured under his arm, he made his way outside for the second time today. It was only 10 a.m. Harry had nearly forgotten the time with all that had already happened today. The rainstorm had subsided and the sun had reclaimed its place in the sky. It was still blaringly hot.

Harry considered his options. The Knight Bus was out of the question. It was a ministry-controlled means of transport and the most logical option. The Underground was another. It was controlled and mainly used by muggles, which was an ideal disguise. Still, the nearest stop was a twenty-minute walk from Privet Drive, and what would he do in London once he got there? The Leaky Cauldron wasn't exactly the ideal hiding place if it's the Ministry you're hiding from. That only left one option. His broom.

After magically attaching his trunk to the back of the Firebolt, Harry got on and set off. Although he wasn't sure whereto exactly he was heading, he kept a southwestern course, away from the city. The countryside was a more ideal hideout place than a city. He may even find a cave or an abandoned barn to spend the night. Yes, southwest definitely was the right way to go.

The wind hitting his face was the best sensation in the world at that moment. It cleared his mind. It felt as if the wind entered his exhausted brain through his eyes, nose and mouth and exited through his skull, taking all his worry, fear and doubt with it. Here, in the warm mid-summer air above Surrey, he finally managed to get some facts straight.

To summarize his morning, Dudley had gotten mad at him because Harry had teased him about his diet. Out of revenge, he had started pelting Harry with questions regarding Cedric and his untimely death. The questions only frustrated Harry at first, but when Dudley started talking about Cedric's death, it had been the last straw for Harry. He had barged out of the Dursley's house, angry and filled with guilt for Cedric's death. A witch called Tonks had found him in a catatonic state and convinced him to return to the Dursley's, though she promised him she'd come and fetch him tonight. That's when things really started getting out of hand. Someone or something had apparently attacked Dudley after he went out looking for Harry. Naturally, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia blamed the attack on him. Vernon had subsequently kicked him out of the house, and now Harry was flying amid the clouds on his Firebolt. Oh, and he had been kicked out of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, the only place where he ever felt at home, as well, for performing a Patronus Charm. Something Harry didn't do either. What a day…

He descended every once in a while to check how far he had come. The first time he had stopped near a motorway station and accioed a couple crumpets and water to him. His appetite had returned to him soon after he took off, since flying required a lot concentration and energy. The next time he went down, he had been near Southampton and readjusted his course. If he had continued flying southwest, he would have found himself above the Channel at nightfall. He was now flying westward. Two times he stopped and found himself in a wasteland full of sheep and green hills. Still, he needed food and water to survive, so he had to hide somewhere near a village. When he descended a fifth and final time, he found himself near a small, picturesque village surrounded by lush hills. This was what he had been looking for all this time. The perfect hideout.

It was getting late as Harry strolled through the village center. He had hidden all of his stuff in some bushes in the outskirts of the village. Opting to use the few pounds he possessed instead of using magic, he bought some water and food in a local supermarket. The cashier lady had told him what the village was called. Harry had never heard of Ottery St Catchpole, perfect. That would probably mean the ministry hadn't either.

That night, Harry managed to find an abandoned barn near the village and put himself down amid the straw. Even with all the worry that had accompanied him here, he felt happier and safer than he ever had back at the Dursley's. It was with that lovely thought that Harry finally closed his eyes and fell asleep, after a long, tiresome day.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **I realize that this may not have been the most perplexing or interesting chapter, but it was one I had to write either way. I didn't want to hop forward in time to the next interesting part of the story since I thought it would be a bit confusing. I hope everyone is all right with that. As the title suggests, the next chapter will be more enlightening in regard to the to the Order's activities. As far as the changes to Dudley's personality go, I made him a bit sneakier and more cunning to benefit the story. Dull and dumb can be fun in some circumstances, but I think the cunning Dudley definitely adds to the story. Furthermore, I would like to apologize for the lateness of this chapter. The new Star Wars movie is to blame! I'm actually thinking about releasing a Star Wars fanfic as well. Off course I will try to get at least a dozen more chapters out on both of my current stories before I might do so. If anyone is interested, feel free to contact me about it. If you've read the entire chapter and are willing to leave a review, follow or favorite, I greatly appreciate it. Au revoir.

**ETA CHAPTER 3 – MYSTERIES UNVEILED: **Fri 22nd of January 2016.


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